


If This Is A Love Song, You Need to Rewrite the Chorus

by flyingmodelrockets



Category: The Front Bottoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:06:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingmodelrockets/pseuds/flyingmodelrockets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mat was not in love with Brian.</p><p>Mat has already told himself this seven times today.</p><p>Brian was not in love with Mat.</p><p>But it must be true, right? Isn't that the way things work? <br/>Tell yourself something often enough, and you start to believe it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Not Jealousy, If I Pretend It Doesn't Sting

The cameras were being packed away, and the interviewer again thanked Brian and Mat for their time, clearly giving more attention to Brian. She barely made eye contact with Mat as she briskly shook his hand.

As they walked back to the van, Mat made an effort to keep ahead of Brian. He realized however, that Brian had the keys, so once he arrived at the van, he could do little more than just stand there, stupidly, and wait.

"I think that went really well," Brian said, in an upbeat tone, clearly not noticing the annoyed expression of Mat's face.

There was no reply, and that's when Brian glanced over to see Mat with his arms crossed and lips pressed into a hard, straight line. "Whatever," Mat grunted, barely opening his mouth to talk.

"Are you okay?" Brian asked, the happiness from his voice fading.

"Yeah, s'fine," Mat practically snarled back, making a clear show of the fact he wasn't looking Brian in the eyes.

Brian sighed, and walked over to Mat. He stood directly in front of him, and tries to catch some eye contact, but Mat moved his gaze to his sneakers.

"Are you mad? Was it something I said in the interview?" Brian said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Mat remained quiet for a moment, then waved his hand wildly, as he whined "That woman! She obviously fancied you, she wouldn't even look at me,"

"Did you think she was hot?" Brian asked, trying to hide his laughter, "you're mad because she was flirting with me? Do you want me to get her number for you?"

Mat immediately pushed past Brian, "Shut up! Unlock the damn car, let's go,"

"Aw Mat, I'm sorry. I'm just teasing. I didn't realize you liked her that much," Brian replied, his voice much more gentle than before. He dipped his head, trying to get a proper look at Mat, and smile at him.

But Mat wasn't interested, focusing solely on the ground.

"I didn't! I don't! It's not...that," Mat mumbled, his shouting quickly fading to a quiet whisper as he choked out the last few words.

"I don't get it then," Brian said, jingling the keys in his hand, nervously, "if you don't like her, why do you care if she flirts with me,"

Mat's face turned a slight shade of red, "I don't! Just forget about it. I wanna go home,"

Brian sighed, and unlocked the passenger side of the van. Mat elbowed him out of the way, and slammed the door. Brian rubbed his arm, which Mat had hit with his bony elbow, and frowned. The hit to his arm didn't actually hurt, but the expression on Mat's face did.

They didn't speak on the drive home, although Brian tried to coax some sort of conversation out of Mat it was useless. His friend remained silent, glaring out the window and focusing on nothing passing by.

Slam! The passenger door as the van pulls to a stop in the garage.

Slam! The front door as Mat nearly knocks it off it's hinges, storming through.

Slam! Mat's bedroom door and he kicks it shut.

Brian stood, bewildered in the hallway, unsure what the hell he's done wrong in the past hour that lead to this. He replayed the interview in his mind, trying to pinpoint exactly what he could've possibly said or done to upset Mat this much.

Mat was usually the calm one of the two of them. His soft, small voice, quietly explaining things in a polite and endearing way. He had only stopped talking to Brian fifteen minutes ago, but Brian already achingly missed that voice.

Brian stood, his forehead pressed against the door, and sighed heavily.

"Mat, can I come in?" He asked, tracing his finger over the flaked off paint.

Normally, he wouldn't bother asking. He would just barge on in, it didn't matter if Mat was asleep, or getting dressed. He'd known Mat long enough that nothing phased him, they didn't have boundaries. Well, not until now. This wasn't just a boundary, the door felt like the great wall of China, acting as a divide between them.

"Sorry I snapped at you, it's not your fault," Mat called, lying on his side on the bed, "I just wanna be left alone,"

Brian's hand slid down the down, falling by his side. "Are you sure? I mean, I can come in there and be alone with you," Brian offered, his voice sounding so pathetic even to his own ears. There was no response.

 


	2. Let's Go Back to the Part Where You Didn't Care, and I Didn't Care that You Didn't Care

The next morning Brian hoped to see Mat on the couch, spilling toast crumbs everywhere and chipping the edges of their wooden coffee table by drumming on it.

But when he walked into the room, it was a ghost town, and there wasn't even a dirty plate to suggest Mat has left his room at all.

Brian put on some toast, and took it to Mat's room - really just as an excuse to check on him.

He nudged open the door, and cast his eyes over the vulnerable form laying on his side with his back facing Brian.

He was only wearing underwear, and his pale body curled up into a ball.

Brian smiled, fondly, at how small Mat looks, all bare skin and pointed bones.

His gangly limbs pulled close towards himself, the curve of his hips and the soft angle where his torso dipped at the waist, the muscles in his shoulders tense under skin that has unevenly tanned over summer, leaving his arms a soft beige and back a stark white.

"I brought you some breakfast," Brian said softly, not wanting to wake him if he's still asleep.

Brian watched as Mat flinched and attempted to pull his legs closer to his chest, the muscles in his back strain as he tried to contort himself to take up less room.

"You awake?" Brian asked, even though he knew the answer.

Mat heaved a sigh and slowly rolled over to face Brian.

His eyes were glassy and bloodshot, circled by heavy, exhausted eyelids. His messy hair was plastered over his forehead, and probably in need of a wash.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, I don't know what came over me," Mat said, barely above a whisper.

Brian placed the toast on the bedside table, and sat down on the bed next to Mat. His weight dipped the mattress, and his arm now rested against Mat's chest.

"You wanna talk about it? Explain it maybe, so I don't do whatever I did again?" Brian said, studying Mat's tired eyes.

Mat sniffled, and shook his head.

He cautiously shuffled closer, as if hoping that he would be subtle enough that Brian wouldn't notice he was now resting his head on Brian's stomach.

"You were obviously pissed about something, and I don't want to upset you," Brian said, as he began brushing his fingers through Mat's hair, "so, can you tell me what it was?"

His fingers weaved through the dark brown waves, and he felt Mat's breath flutter against his shirt, as the younger boy sighed contently.

"You'll think it's dumb," Mat whispered, and craned his neck up against Brian's fingertips.

Fingernails dragged lazily up the Mat's neck and through his hair, the shy touch sending a shiver down his spine.

"Whatever it is, it's probably nowhere near as dumb as the stuff I do on a regular basis," Brian replied with a grin, scratching softly Mat's scalp.

He hardly realized he was even doing anything, until a near-silent mewing sound escaped Mat's mouth.

Brian stopped abruptly, out of surprise, and Mat blushed dark crimson across his cheeks.

He bit his bottom lip and frowned at himself.

Brian just laughed, and went back to gently raking his fingers through Mat's hair.

"Your hair has got so long over the summer," Brian said, trying to change the subject because Mat was clearly still seemingly distraught over the embarrassing noise he'd made.

"Do you think I should cut it?" Mat asked, without looking up at Brian.

"I like it long," Brian replied, curling Mat's hair around his finger, "Suits you,"

They stayed like that for hours, with Mat's arm slung over Brian's waist and his face nestled against his chest. Brian looked down at Mat, who is curled up by his side, and brushes the long hair out of his friends face.

The dark circles under Mat's eyes are still obvious, and he's shaking a little even though the room is relatively warm. He clearly didn't sleep well last night, and exhaustion is painted all over him.

Brian's leg is cramping now, and the headboard is digging sharply into his neck and back. He tried to shuffle a little, move into a more comfortable position without waking Mat.

Mat groaned at the slightest of movements and his hand grappled blindly through thin air before coming back to Brian's shirt. He gripped a fistful of the fabric, as if he's falling and it's all he has left to keep him from crashing down.

Brian hushed him, reassured him that everything's fine.

"I'm here, shh, I'm still here," he whispered, loosely hugging Mat with one arm.

His other arm has gone slightly numb, all pins and needles, from being still for long and he cringes at the prickling feeling in his nerves. Mat's eyes squeezed shut, and his face scrunched up. He made a pathetic almost crying noise, like a frightened child, and moves closer still to Brian. He nuzzles against Brian, using the pull of the fabric balled in his hand to pull himself higher up Brian's chest.

Mat's opened his eyes now, but still won't look at Brian. He shuffled around a little, and the grogginess of sleep hadn't worn off yet as he's unsteady leaning on Brian to support him. Brian holds a loose grip on Mat's arm to stop him falling.

"Comfortable?" Brian teased, rubbing his thumb against Mat's forearm. Mat tilts himself at an angle, so he can crawl on Brian's lap, and sit sideways with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. His shoulder presses to Brian's sternum, and his warm face rests just under Brian's chin.

"This is...different," Brian said cautiously, not wanting to make Mat feel self conscious, or like he wants him to leave, "I mean, I'm not complaining, I just..."

He still expects Mat to leave, or at least say something. But he remained silent, and the only movement he makes his to pull his knees to his chest. Mat's cold feet perched on Brian's thigh, and he pressed his thighs to his own naked chest. His chin rested atop his knees and he shook his head.

"It's so dumb," Mat said, and dipped his head so his face could be hidden by his hair.

Brian wasn't sure if he was supposed to ask what Mat was talking about, so he just sat in silence.

"I hate how people look at you. Their dirty fantasies about you practically playing out I'm the reflection of their eyes. They look at you like you're theirs for the taking," Mat spat bitterly, and it was clear from the shaking in his voice that he was choking back tears.

"That's what this was all about? That's what's upset you?" Brian asked, confused, though it came across as sounding condescending.

"I don't know! I told you it was stupid!" Mat sourly replied, as if there were a bad taste in his mouth.

He scrambled gracelessly away from Brian, tripping and nearly crashing to the floor. He stood a foot away from the bed, arms crossed over his naked chest, in his underwear trying to look angry and intimidating.

"You're right, you know, you're totally right. Why should I give a shit?" Mat shouted, his voice cracking several times and his tongue stumbled over the words.

"Um, I mean it's nice you care, man, but I can take care of myself," Brian replied, shrugging in a lazy sort of manner.

Honestly, he didn't even understand what was going on or why Mat was being so irrational.

Mat exhaled slowly, trying to regain his composure and control of his breathing. He scrubbed his hands over his face and felt a panic crushing him. Mat frantically wondered what expression was on Brian's face but felt too timid to sneak a look at him.

Here Mat was, completely overreacting for no valid reason and being overly affectionate then losing his chill and screaming?

"Come on," Brian said with a sigh, "get back over here and tell me what's really going on,"

"You won't make fun of me?" Mat asked quietly, as if embarrassed.

"Course not," Brian said, shaking his head, "and if anyone ever makes fun of you for anything, I'll beat them up," he added with a grin.

Mat couldn't suppress the small smile, because Brian was the least violent person on the planet and the idea of him 'beating up' anyone was ridiculous.

Mat walked slowly over to Brian, hesitantly sitting at the far side of the bed. Brian rolled his eyes, then pulled Mat over to him so the younger boy was against his chest.

Brian's hands rubbed Mat's upper arms. Mat wasn't sure if this was intended as reassurance and comfort, or just because his skin was cold to the touch.


End file.
